Emily Molnar is the Artistic Director of Nederlands Dans Theater (NDT). She sets the artistic philosophy and pathway for the company and artists within, including dancers, choreographers, guest choreographers, but also the audience. NDT has been a major voice in the world of dance for more than 65 years, focusing on creating dance pieces with a contemporary point of view. APR MAG met Emily in The Hague, where NDT is based, to talk about the importance of dance and art in today’s modern society, on why dancers are elite athletes, and what it takes to become an elite dancer.

APR MAG:
Hey Emily, for someone who doesn’t know what you’re doing with NDT: How would you describe contemporary dance?

Emily Molnar:
That’s a really good place to start. When people think of professional dance, they often think of ballet. For someone who doesn’t know much about it, I like to compare a contemporary dancer to a classical musician who decides to become a jazz musician, someone who uses their classical training as a foundation but plays with it in new ways, new forms, and with more agency. This is our starting point at NDT. All of our dancers are classically trained, which gives them a certain fluency in the body and the ability to move in many directions. Ballet trains you to elevate, to spiral, and to move with a high degree of articulation. Our dancers also have contemporary training, which allows them to work closer to the floor and engage in improvisation. We collaborate with choreographers from all over the world who create new work for us, inspired by this fluent, versatile body. Of course, you can also be a contemporary dancer within a ballet company, it really depends on your point of view.

What also makes us contemporary is that we are constantly creating new work. For someone new to dance, it’s worth considering that what you’re seeing on stage is essentially a combination of an elite athlete and artist. It’s the mind within this highly trained, expressive body. Our dancers are able to communicate artistically through their athleticism. When art and athletics come together, as they do in great dance, it becomes a powerful expression of creative, emotional, and physical intelligence.

APR MAG:
So you’d say there’s this duality to dancers of being an artist and an elite athlete at the same time? 

Emily:
Yes, absolutely. As a dancer, everything is called into action, the body, the mind, the spirit, and the imagination. These elements must align to inhabit a single moment of movement. There is no separation, and no place to hide. What emerges is a deep vulnerability, a heightened expression that demands profound physical awareness and fluency in the body.

In many ways, dancers reveal what humans are capable of. Like athletes, they push toward the edge of physical limits, and as a viewer, you feel that intensity, the immediacy of effort and presence. But dance extends beyond the physical, it engages the emotional terrain just as rigorously. There is no finish line, no winning. The pursuit is expression itself.

When that level of physical rigour meets an inner life of ideas, imagination, and intuition, it becomes art. Dance becomes a bridge, one that allows for complex, often unspoken conversations. It has taken me time to understand the depth of that exchange. We don’t need to share language or beliefs. Through movement, we meet and connect with trust. And in that shared space, something shifts. It shapes us.

This is why dance cannot be reduced to aesthetics or the image of the body. It is not just physical effort, it is expressive, relational, and transformative. It offers another way of understanding ourselves and each other.

I don’t claim to have definitive answers, but I do believe we need spaces like this, ways to explore self-expression and creativity from different perspectives. Without that, our understanding of what it means to be human and what is possible remains incomplete.

APR MAG:
So by saying that dance does go beyond entertainment, you would say that dance, or art in general, is crucial to reflect on the current state of the world?

Emily:
And also, on human potential. Studies on children’s learning show that they retain information more effectively when they move while learning, often more quickly and more deeply. I believe there are ideas held in the body that simply can’t be expressed through spoken language.

It’s not really about which art form is more important, it’s about what resonates with you and what sense you connect to most strongly. We’re living in a time of disruption. The world is increasingly complex, and many of the systems we’ve relied on are beginning to fracture or even collapse. Art offers a way to navigate that complexity.

Dance, in particular, helps us move through and make sense of uncertainty and create dialogue across differences, whether cultural, emotional, or intellectual. We work in community, in constant communication with others and through our bodies, making that exchange immediate and powerful. It gives us a way to connect when spoken language falls short.

In our studio at NDT, this is our daily practice. We adapt constantly. We take an idea and explore it from every angle, reshaping, discarding, returning to, and reinventing it. We combine it with other ideas, disrupt it, and sometimes step away from it entirely. This fluid, responsive way of working is something many fields aspire to, but in dance, it’s simply how we operate.

We’re fortunate to work with incredibly accomplished artists, but what defines us is that we are always in a state of evolution. Adapting to change isn’t something we aim for, it’s our normal.

APR MAG:
You just touched on working with renowned choreographers and up and coming talent. How do you balance showcasing both new and established talent?

Emily:
That’s always such an important question. For anyone in my position, it’s about respecting legacy while continuing to make space for new generations.

There are different ways to approach that. When we look at work created 30 years ago, the question becomes how to make it relevant today. Not everything is meant to continue, but there are works audiences have never experienced, and it’s important to give them that reference point. It’s like listening to Bach or Pink Floyd. We return to them because their work remains meaningful and deserves to be passed on.

I approach dance in a similar way. We invite younger generations to interpret and reimagine these works, bringing them back to life. When I took over NDT, Jiří Kylián, who has a deep history with the company, encouraged me to move beyond his legacy. But I felt strongly that we should continue his work because there is a whole generation of dancers and audiences who have never encountered it.

At the same time, everything we do feels like it’s in progress. Nothing is ever truly finished. So, while it’s important to carry our canon forward, it’s equally important to protect space for new work and innovation. That’s NDT’s DNA, experimentation.

We have a responsibility to our artists, our audience, and the field to keep evolving. Finding that balance also means supporting new voices, including artists who are just beginning to discover what they want to choreograph. Often, that journey begins within the company itself, with dancers creating work for the first time.

There are many factors to consider, including how this development shapes the company's identity, what it offers our audiences, and how it contributes to the national and international dance landscape. That ongoing exchange fascinates me. We create a work, tour it across the Netherlands and internationally, and see how it resonates in different contexts.

But ultimately, great art connects across cultures. 

APR MAG:
Working with people who are just learning how to choreograph, especially at an institution as NDT, isn’t that risky?

Emily:
Yes, that’s an important point. I’ve been trying to break down those walls, but it’s amazing how quickly they can reappear, often driven by a person’s expectations of what they think they need to deliver. When I work with emerging choreographers, I encourage them to start small, experiment, and stay in a kind of laboratory mindset. But very often, the moment they’re given space to create, the pressure takes over. That instinct is understandable, but it’s also closely tied to how we relate to risk as a company. 

When I first started, there was a lot of pressure to constantly produce. I understand that it’s part of the responsibility, but that pressure can also limit innovation and experimentation. What I’ve been trying to cultivate instead is an environment where we have a more open relationship to risk, where it’s okay to go somewhere you don’t fully understand, or that doesn’t feel familiar, and to embrace that challenge.

If you have enough people in a room working from that place, approaching creation with curiosity rather than certainty, something unexpected and special can emerge. But the moment you define a fixed outcome; people tend to fall back on what they already know. That applies to everyone, including choreographers, dancers, and designers. For me, risk is essential, but it has to be framed by curiosity.

When I look for dancers or choreographers, I look for people who are searching for something beyond themselves, because it’s about learning and creativity. It's not about being a certain way or about achieving.

APR MAG:
I remember last year, when I saw the Botis Seva piece, I immediately thought this was different. There were very diverse reactions in the audience, some people didn’t even clap, others loved it. I enjoyed talking about the piece to others afterwards and for most people it was a step in the unknown. Some even questioned whether it was something for the stage. I think this is ultimately what art needs to do, tickling the uncomfortable somehow.

Emily:
I would agree. Not everyone will respond in the same way, which raises important questions about what allows us to move forward as a company. In a way, the audience completes the work. Otherwise, we could all just dance in our living rooms. But the moment you invite an audience in, when you sell tickets and present something publicly, you enter a different kind of dialogue. Then it becomes a question of responsibility. What are we offering, and how are we framing it?

That’s why programming is so important to me. Not every idea belongs on the same platform. Some works are better suited to an intimate space, while others are better suited to a large stage, a site-specific environment, or even a digital format. All of these are valid. I don’t see them in a hierarchy. Bigger doesn’t necessarily mean better. It always comes back to the idea and what best serves it.

APR MAG:
When talking about the audience and the audience’s perception of pieces -  how does seeing a dance piece affect our perception of art or movement?

Emily:
Can I ask you what you would think? I'm curious.

APR MAG:
For me, the fact that I can go see a dance performance at a specific moment in time and I’ll never be able to see it like this again, even if it’s captured on video - it’s this aspect I really enjoy because it feels closer and more personal. Also, seeing the same piece from different seats in the audience - whether it’s up close or all the way in the back is so different. The pieces themselves also change, it’s different interpretations from different dancers. 

Emily:
And also the nights.

APR MAG:
Exactly.

Emily:
It’s fascinating, isn’t it?

APR MAG:
To circle this back to the question, I think dance is one of the most fleeting art forms in a really positive way. In a world where we can capture everything all the time, being able to do that sometimes results in a loss of value. It's like going to the movies on your own, it’s something you only do for yourself. In dance performances, you’re not even allowed to take pictures. Going to shows has changed so much, since everybody has a camera at hand all the time. At a dance performance, you can't do that.

Emily:
Thank you for sharing that. I feel that ephemerality very strongly, and I often relate it to Buddhist sand paintings. They take hours, days, even weeks to create, and then they disappear. In dance, we rehearse for hours, and then perform, and what remains lives only in the memories of the performers and the audience. The documentation happens very quietly, within us, within a shared community. Live performance exists in the moment. One of my concerns about the world we’re living in is that, despite having endless access to content, we’re sometimes losing our connection to a living human experience.

People often describe dance as abstract, but I see it more as a different way of perceiving the world, a different kind of logic. Some will connect with it right away, for others, it might take a while to understand how to get in, and some may never. 

Dance invites you to feel. It offers something you don’t encounter elsewhere. When audiences come to our performances, they often discover something personal within the work, whether through the complexity of the body in motion, the music or the design. They may not like every work, but that's not our goal as a company. We want people to come and have a conversation, to have an experience with us. 

APR MAG:
So even if you don’t like the art form itself, the athleticism might resonate with you?

Emily:
That’s exactly right, especially given the level of physicality we work with. What most people don’t realize is that dancers train as long as doctors do. Our dancers don’t even begin auditioning for us until they have about 12 years of training. They start young and essentially move through a path comparable to university and medical school. As a viewer, you’re having a conversation with an elite athlete, and hopefully you’ll also become engaged with the artistic statement being expressed.

Dance is not a profession for anyone seeking an easy path. I say that in the most positive sense. It demands profound dedication. Being a dancer means giving 150% physically, emotionally, and creatively every day. Everything is asked of you at the highest level. Dance is about excellence in an elite environment. It is rare. When dancing, the way the body interacts with the brain is highly sophisticated. This kind of cross-patterning between the mind and body is very rare in other professions. 

What’s unique about dance is that, by its nature, it inevitably requires transition. We are always dancers, but there comes a point, often around midlife, when the performing career ends and our identity begins to shift. That makes it a very unusual profession.

With NDT 1 and NDT 2, we perform more than 160 shows each year, both locally and internationally, while constantly creating new work. It’s an enormous workload.

When you ask yourself to be that open and vulnerable on stage every night, it demands tremendous discipline and inner work. You don’t get to hide.

APR MAG:
Let’s talk about dancers for a second, even though as an Artistic Director you’re more behind the scenes. What are you looking for in a dancer?

Emily:
I look for an artist first. Of course, strong physical intelligence is essential; it is the starting point in dance, but that is only the beginning. What really interests me is talent in a broader sense, including vulnerability, courage, rigour, generosity, and integrity. These are the qualities that make someone an artist. I look for dancers who have something to say and who care deeply about the work and why it matters. It’s not only about ability but also about presence, commitment, and genuine engagement with the creative process.

At NDT, collaboration is essential. We cannot work without it. I look for people who are willing to be part of something collective while still bringing a strong sense of self. Individuality is not lost in that process, it is strengthened. Ideas emerge through exchange, listening, and working together in the studio. I also look for curiosity and a willingness to take risks, physically, emotionally, and creatively. Above all, I look for people who care deeply about the art form and are committed to it every day

APR MAG:
You must get thousands of applications but I guess you only have very limited spots, right? How do you handle this opposition? 

Emily:
We receive thousands of applications from dancers all over the world who are working at a very high level. In NDT 1, there are about 26 to 28 positions, and in NDT 2 there are 18. NDT 2, by nature, works on a three-year cycle, so there is always a level of renewal built in. In NDT 1, the intention is different, you don’t want an artist to stay just for a year. You want to invest in them and have a longer artistic conversation over time. These positions can last for many years, which means that, out of thousands of applicants, there may be only one or two openings in a season. 

That is why the audition process is so important. It needs to be open and in-depth so we can truly get to know a dancer, not only their technical ability but also who they are as an artist.

There are training institutions around the world that produce extraordinary dancers, but there simply are not enough positions for everyone.

Because of that, it is also important that we think beyond the company itself. Through our pre-professional educational programs, we aim to support dancers' development alongside our artistic programming.

There is so much talent in the world. We feel a responsibility to help create pathways for dancers to continue developing and sharing their craft.

APR MAG:
 I feel like there's this way more commitment from both the dancers and the company, than in any other job. Nowadays it's so common to switch jobs easily but what you’ve just said sounds like real commitment with little to no compromise.

Emily:
Yes, you’re pointing to something I read about recently. Future generations are expected to change their work eight or nine times throughout their careers, often moving into entirely different fields rather than staying within one organization or following a traditional path.

My concern is what this idea of commitment will actually mean moving forward. Even years ago, our profession was already rare. Now it is becoming even more niche because of the level of commitment it requires, dedicating yourself to one practice and continuing to deepen it, to refine it, to get better and better every day at a craft. There is something essential in the long-term pursuit of excellence. It is not only about achievement, but about a sustained process of becoming, more aware, more human through practice. And I do believe there is something in that that connects to human flourishing. This kind of devotion to a craft allows deeper human passion and meaning to emerge. It shapes not only the work but also the person.

That is something I wish more professions could hold onto, not to lose the depth of engagement and the sense of purpose that comes from staying with something long enough to truly develop it.

But then the question is, what is that purpose? It is closely tied to motivation. You cannot reach this level of excellence without genuine commitment.

I worry when everything is changing so quickly and becoming more fragmented. What does that mean for our profession and our experience of it? 

APR MAG:
Talking about changes and future generations, what are your hopes and dreams for the future of art? 

Emily:
I think we’ve already touched on that. It’s crucial that art continues to hold an important place in society, perhaps even more than it does today. We live in an era of complexity, and art can help us navigate this time of uncertainty. I believe we need to stay connected to our bodies, and dance will become more relevant than ever because it asks us to do exactly that.

APR MAG:
Amazing, beautiful. Thank you so much.